


Altercation

by DrummerDancer



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2018-03-01 00:04:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2752142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrummerDancer/pseuds/DrummerDancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were rivals and nobody thought otherwise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Altercation

They’re dancing around the issue like children rubbed raw from a skirmish, their bodies tense as they pass each other in the hallways, glancing only from the corners of their eyes as they walk by. It’s unspoken, unthinkable, the things they want to do to one another—how Kaiba desires to grip him by the hair as Yami claws at his naked back, how Yami thinks only of leaving bite marks down the plane of Kaiba’s chest—but neither knows how to approach the problem, how to build the bridge between what they want and what they can have, because they’re both too alike in the way that they think.

 

Neither wants to submit to the other, even if logic dictates they can’t both dominate. Someone has to give up their control in order to let the other succeed, but they’re both arrogant in thinking it’s the other’s job to lose this battle.

 

It’s only when they land at the Kaiba Corp Duel Tower, when they set up for their semi-final duel at the top by themselves, do either think now might be their only shot.

 

“Roland, delay the live broadcast until two o’clock,” Kaiba says.

 

Kaiba exits the platform and Yami follows, because it’s clear from the glances Kaiba’s throwing him that this interruption involves him. Neither notice Mokuba watching them, or the way Marik is licking his lips as he raises an eyebrow in their direction. They both exit, with Yami right on Kaiba’s heels.

 

“What’s going o—”

 

Kaiba slaps a hand over Yami’s mouth, his other coming up to pinch off the tiny microphone clipped onto Yugi’s school jacket. He reaches around and removes the mic pack from Yami’s waist, his hand lingering on his torso before pocketing the device in his coat. Kaiba does the same for his own.

 

Yami is glaring, waiting for Kaiba to finish circling the wires, and then he’s in Kaiba’s face, demanding an explanation.

 

“Don’t play coy, Yugi. We only have fifteen minutes.”

 

“Coy? About—”

 

Kaiba presses his palms flat against Yami’s chest, right into the wall, and his mouth dangerously close to Yami’s ear. Yami’s pace is starting to race, though Kaiba doesn’t mistake it for excitement. Close, close enough to suck on the shell of Yami’s ear, he says, “You can get down on your knees willingly, or I’ll put you there myself.”

 

Anger hot like a poker pulled out of white fire flashes across Yami’s face, and without thinking, his hand snakes around Kaiba’s throat and he leans close in turn, close enough to bite the fleshy part of Kaiba’s earlobe if he so desired. “Your ego has left you disillusioned, Kaiba, if you honestly think that’ll happen. Though, if you’re _offering_ , I won’t turn you down.”

 

Kaiba’s hand has snaked into Yami’s hair; he’s gripping his hair tight enough to hurt. “Calling me disillusioned is laughable when you say shit like that, Yugi. Like you’re in a position to be making requests.”

 

“I don’t have to request anything of you, Kaiba. You’re interests always do seem to… _coincide_ with mine.”

 

Kaiba is digging his fingers into Yami’s scalp. “What are you trying to say?”

 

Yami is digging his fingers into Kaiba’s throat in turn. “You’re obsessive to the extreme. Get. Over. Yourself.”

 

It’s at this moment Kaiba’s had enough; he’s kissing him, except it’s all teeth and tongue and less an act of passion and more an act of war. And Yami is dueling like he’s equipped for nuclear warfare.

 

Neither knows how they got on the floor except that it mustn’t have been pleasant by the bruises on Yami’s knees and Kaiba’s back; all they can focus on is the way their salvia hangs off each other’s lips, of the black of each other’s eyes, of the way they’re unconsciously hurting the other with their nails and teeth and tongues.

 

They don’t get far enough to broach the issue of who’s more dominant than the other, and perhaps they shouldn’t go there because there wouldn’t ever be an answer for it; as it was, they only manage to get their clothing straightened in time for Mokuba to find them in the hallway, his breath haggard as he’s speaking into his walkie talkie.

 

“I found them, Roland. We’re on our way back up.”

 

There’s a reply neither Yami nor Kaiba hear; it all happens very suddenly that they’re back on the dueling platform, standing on either end, their stances eerily similar to earlier, as if the altercation in the hallway never occurred. In fact, everything begins to proceed as normal, and it’s only after Yami draws his first card and the cameras are rolling does he realize his mic pack is still in Seto Kaiba’s coat.

 

Yami hesitates for only a moment before lowering his duel disk and walking across the platform to Kaiba. And Kaiba is keen and observant in all things, for he’s grabbing the pack out of his pocket and meeting Yami halfway, his customary scowl firmly in place. He straps the mic pack back on around Yami’s waist before clipping the microphone to Yami’s collar and says nothing as he returns to his spot.

 

And besides learning Seto Kaiba can get a little hands-on when it comes to putting a mic pack on someone, the world learns nothing about what has transpired, instead adapting the same narrative as before; that submission never was an option for Seto Kaiba and Yugi Muto, that these two rivals will always be rivals, and that pride always comes before pleasure when dealing with any great adversary.

 

They watch on as the semi-finals continue.


End file.
